


Thunderstruck

by DementedPixie



Series: Demented Pixie's Buckystuckyfanfic [8]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hot Weather, M/M, Nudity, Protective Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2019-07-24
Packaged: 2020-07-22 18:36:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19967176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DementedPixie/pseuds/DementedPixie
Summary: It's been really, really hot this summer.





	1. Summer fun, something's begun

It had been one of those long hot, midsummer days when the mercury rose and kept right on rising. By three in the afternoon the city was roasting and by four, the flying ants flew. Maybe the inhabitants of hot countries had a good point when they closed up shop each afternoon for their siesta. But in New York, this July day, everyone had been trying their best to keep cool, keep calm and carry on. Until the moment came where they just couldn’t carry on anymore. The subway may have been unbearable but it was still the quickest way to get home and, by the time the rush hour would normally have just started, the city had already fallen quiet as the residents retreated to anywhere that had air con. 

Steve got home around seven, after spending the day visiting the children’s cancer unit at Morgan Stanley. As he stepped into the apartment he shared with Bucky, he could hear the air conditioning motor working hard, but it still wasn’t what you would call cool. 

Bucky looked up from his book when he heard the front door close, leaning back in his seat so he could see into the hallway. 

“Hey,” he called, “good day?”

“Can’t talk,” replied Steve, toeing his boots off. “Too hot.”

“Huh.” Bucky lifted his right leg and rested it on the back of the sofa, in the direct path of the carefully positioned electric fan. 

Steve dropped his jeans and stepped out of them, leaving them lying on the hall floor. 

Bucky craned his neck so he could get a better view. 

“God dammit, it’s hot,” said Steve, pulling off his tie and unbuttoning his shirt, shrugging out of it before dropping both items on the floor as he made his way straight to the bathroom. 

“Need any help?” called Bucky, stretching out so that the flow of cool air could get to where he wanted it to go. 

“Too hot,” replied Steve again, turning the shower on cold and stepping straight under it with an oath not often heard from America’s representative of truth and justice. 

Bucky considered this for a moment. He considered getting up and helping Steve whether he wanted help or not. And he considered that in order to do so, he’d have to give up his electric fan. 

He stayed put. 

Gradually, the expletives coming from the direction of the bathroom died down and, after a few minutes more, the shower was turned off. 

Steve didn’t bother with a towel. He just walked into the lounge and flopped down next to Bucky, dripping water as he went. 

Bucky raised one eyebrow at him. “Really?” 

“Don’t judge me,” replied Steve, pushing at Bucky’s leg so he could share a bit of Bucky’s fan action. “Can you believe they had the heating on in that hospital?”

“What?”

“Something to do with the boiler being on the fritz. It’s why I’m helping to raise money to refurbish the place.”

“That can’t be healthy for the kids.”

“No, well they were moving patients to different wards to get them away from the heat. It was a bit of a nightmare.”

“My hero.”

“Gee, thanks,” replied Steve, giving Bucky a grin. “Any chance your hero could get a cold beer?”

“You could have got one before you sat down.”

“I could. But I just couldn’t wait to see you, oh light of my life.”

“Hmmm.” Bucky narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “No moving into my seat while I’m gone.”

“As if I would!”

Bucky stood up and walked to the kitchen, fully aware of Steve’s gaze on him as he did so. 

“You know,” called Steve, “it’s a good job we’re not overlooked.”

“We can’t be the only people turning their home into a nudist beach today,” replied Bucky, as he pulled open the refrigerator door and stood in front of it for a moment or two, revelling in the cold air that poured out. 

“I guess not.”

There had been a time when standing in front of a blast of frozen air, even for a matter of moments, would have sent Bucky Barnes into a panic attack. But slowly over time, with the help of Steve and the other Avengers, he had fought to overcome his understandable but upsetting response. 

Nether regions blissfully cooled, he took two bottles of beer from the shelf and closed the refrigerator door, feeling rather pleased with himself. 

A feeling which was replaced by annoyance as soon as he returned to the living room to find Steve in his spot on the sofa. 

“You said,” he snarled, “you wouldn’t take my seat.”

“Did I?”

Steve didn’t even have the good grace to show any remorse which meant that Bucky, momentarily distracted by the sight of Captain America drip drying his balls in front of an electric fan, had to make do with spilling cold beer down his back. 

It appeared that it was true that revenge was, indeed, a dish best served cold.


	2. But oh those summer nights

It’s a symptom of the human condition that when it’s cold, we complain about wanting to be warmer, and when it’s hot, we want to be cool. Luckily with intense heat comes humidity, and with humidity comes the promise of refreshing rain, all be it accompanied by storms. 

When Steve and Bucky and the rest of New York finally went to bed, it appeared that the entire city was going to have the shared experience of a sleepless night. 

By midnight, it was still as hot as it had been that afternoon, but around 1am, the weather finally broke. One, intense flash of lightning heralded the start of a storm of epic proportions, worthy even of the God of Thunder himself. Rain lashed downwards in a torrent, running rivers down their large windowpanes. 

By virtue of nothing but really terrible timing, Steve was in the kitchen getting a glass of water when the first crack of thunder hit. It was as if the sky began exploding around them, brilliant bursts of pure electricity crackling across the heavens. 

He dropped the glass in the sink and ran back to the bedroom. 

“Bucky,” he gasped, blinking to adjust his eyes in order to see, the darkness suddenly twice as black in the aftermath of the lightning. 

The bed was empty. 

Steve stared at it, still a little stunned by the sudden change in the weather, as ear-splitting thunder followed quickly behind the latest lightning strike. The storm was immediately overhead. 

There was nowhere else Bucky could have vanished to. He couldn’t have gone anywhere in the apartment without passing by Steve in the kitchen, and their bed was a divan with storage drawers beneath it. Which left only one place to hide.

Trying to ignore the raging thunderstorm taking place outside their bedroom window, Steve tapped gently on the closet. 

“Bucky? I’m opening the door.”

Slowly, Steve turned the handle and pulled the door open, squinting into the darkness past the rows of hanging garments. 

Unfortunately, that the was the exact moment that the next bolt of lightning chose to light up the room, although at least it meant that Steve could see where Bucky was.

“Shit.” 

There was only one thing for it. Steve stepped into the closet and pulled the door closed behind him, dropping to his knees in front of his friend. 

“Buck, it’s all right. I’m here.”

He reached forward, grasping Bucky by the shoulders, before pulling him into a bear hug of Grizzly proportions. With careful positioning, he managed to get Bucky sideways on, so that one ear was pressed against Steve’s own chest with the other covered by Bucky’s hand. 

“Try to stay with me,” he whispered. “It’s going to be okay.”

In truth, Bucky wasn’t the only one affected by the ferocity of the storm. Steve had also witnessed many horrors in his time, seen people blown apart by explosions, been deafened by gunfire, been unable to escape the chaotic pandemonium of war. 

He pulled Bucky so close to him it was as if they were sharing the same shadow, breathing the same air. He buried his face in Bucky’s soft hair, and held him tight. 

The closet was comfortable, with carpet on the floor and a pile of soft sweaters to lean on. But it wasn’t soundproof. And even the strongest hands pressed against ears can’t block out all sound. At least they couldn’t see the lightning now, but they could still hear – and feel – the thunder, as it rolled its way around Brooklyn. At one point it seemed as though the storm was moving away, and Steve felt Bucky relax slightly. But then abruptly it was back, directly overhead again, thunder cracking louder than ever. 

Bucky tensed and let out a sound that could only be described as a whimper.

Steve’s heart broke for him. 

“Hey,” he said, inspiration suddenly striking him. “Do you remember this one?”

“What?” replied Bucky, in a small voice that Steve hadn’t heard since they were kids. 

Steve cleared his throat, then move his head so his lips were close to Bucky’s ear. 

And he began to sing. 

“Kiss me once, then kiss me twice, then kiss me once again. It’s been a long, long time. Haven’t felt like this, my dear, since can’t remember when. It’s been a long, long time…”

“Steve?”

“You’ll never know how many dreams I dream about you, or just how empty they all seem without you.”

“Steve.”

“So kiss me once, then kiss me twice, then kiss me once again. It’s been a long, long time.”

“Jesus.”

Steve stopped singing and pulled back a little so that he could look at Bucky in the gloom. 

“Okay, Buck?”

“You’re a punk, you know that?”

“But I’m your punk, right, Buck?”

Another peal of thunder shook the foundations of their building, just as Bucky attempted a weak smile. Letting out a sigh, he slouched down into Steve’s arms once more and made himself comfortable. 

“Sing to me, punk.”

Steve grinned at him in the darkness. 

“Anything you say, jerk.”

And like everything else in their lives, they rode out the storm. Together.


End file.
